Unbroken
by cinnamonstyles
Summary: Prompt fill. "That slushie was meant for Kurt." "And that's supposed to make it ok!" Seblaine leading to confession of feelings. Spoilers for Michael.


**Hey! Received a prompt on tumblr and couldn't resist it, and I actually liked what I ended up with so I thought I'd post it on here. **

**Prompt: "That slushie was meant for Kurt." "And that's supposed to make it ok?" Seblaine leading to confession of feelings.**

It had been an hour since Kurt, Rachel and Finn left - and frankly, Blaine was bored again. Even looking in the mirror examining his eye patch while re-enacting Pirates of the Caribbean in his best Jack Sparrow impression had grown a tiresome time waster. Or, maybe he just realized how weird he was being, blamed it on the medication and vowed never to do that again when his Mom had walked in on him during the act. She must have thought he was mentally unstable as well as half blind. Having nothing to do meant it was hard to keep his mind off the slightly major surgery he was having in a few days. But still, he'd rather think about that than see Sebastian Smythe.

Two sharp knocks. "I'm fine, Mom, I swear."

"I'm not your Mom," a slightly amused, and extremely familiar voice called from out in the hall. "Although you could always-" the door pushed open, only half cautiously, and the very person he didn't want to lay his one good eye on appeared. "Actually, I'm going to save the inappropriate comment because you're injured. Unless of course you-"

"What are you doing here, Sebastian?" Blaine cut him off, glaring. "Who even let you through?"

"Your parents don't know Warbler from Warbler, I told them I was Jeff come to check on you. Relax, I'm not here to throw more rock salt in your face."

Blaine watched, slightly perplexed as the boy kicked the door shut and strode over to his bed, sitting down on the edge quite comfortably, cocking his head to the side to get a good look at his injury. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he let out a sharp bellow of laughter. "I thought Sebastian Smythe apologized to no one."

"That slushie was meant for Kurt."  
>"And that's supposed to make it ok, then?"<p>

Sebastian smiled slightly. "Yes, actually. See, it's him I dislike, not you. Not at all, actually, you're very likeable, Anderson."

"Well, he's my boyfriend, and he feels the same way about you, too. So that kind of causes a problem here, but I am oh-so-honoured that you deem me_likeable,_" Blaine muttered the last part sarcastically. "Seriously, Seb, what do you want?"

"Right now? A serious coffee and some hot sex, but I can already tell I've come to the wrong place for either of those things, so let's settle for talking about what I _need_."

"Okay. What do you need, exactly?"

The constantly-attached-to-his-face type smirk vanished, his blue green eyes that Blaine had definitely never fantasized about softened, and he moved very gingerly off the bed and into the arm chair. "Anderson," his eyelids fluttered shut for a second. "Blaine. Tell me something."

A pause. "Tell you what?"

"Anything. A story. A memory. Just talk to me." he kept his eyes closed now.

"Uhhm…" the boy racked his brains, trying to make sense of Seb's strange request, wondering what was behind it and if it was a good idea. "Well, remember the first time we met?" He saw him nod. "I was on my way into Dalton, just to invite all my friends to my opening night. I was so excited about being Tony, and I wanted to share it with everyone. And by some weird coincidence," a smile crept up on Blaine's slips for no apparent reason, "I walked in on your Uptown Girl rehearsal, and seemed to catch your attention."

"Blaine Anderson. Sex on a stick and sings like a dream," Sebastian almost sighed the words, echoing what he'd said on that very day.

"Yeah, you were very forward about your intentions, even on our first date."

That slip of tongue. That was something Blaine couldn't blame on his medication. Because this wasn't the first, or second or third time he'd caught himself thinking of Sebastian like that. Vivid dreams, mumbling in his half sleep, when the doctors told him about his surgery, when Kurt and Finn and Rachel sang for him. And now he'd spoken the words, the fantasy of their first date. What bothered him more was that there was no change in the expression on the Warbler's face. He decided to continue. "You were very seductive and charming during the performance, anyway. And then we got coffee and you told me all about your life in Paris and at Dalton but never really talked about yourself." the last bit came as even more of a shock to him, but as he said it he realized it was true. Sebastian talked a lot, but never about the person that he was. Not about the person that Blaine saw whenever they hung out together, anyway.

"Thank you, Blaine," he smiled, his eyes opening again, exposing that sea of blue and green again. "I like listening to you speak. Especially about me. Or anything you care about."

He completely ignored the implications. "Seb…," he ventured, turning his head fully towards him, questioningly.

"Yes?" He moved again, this time fully onto the bed, his shoulder resting hardly a few inches from his. He didn't even protest.

"Why are you… like that? Around others, I mean. You're sarcastic and vindictive and mean and condescending, but that's not you, Seb. You're blunt, but not cruel. Honest, but not hurtful. Why am I the one who gets to see your soft side?"

"Because you're the one that brings it out in me."

There was a pain in his voice, a small fracture that Blaine could almost hear spreading and breaking, and all at once Sebastian seemed to snap. It was a process. First the voice, then the hitched breath, the slight clouding in his wide eyes, before he let out the noise, a gut wrenching sob that made Blaine's chest contract and his stomach twinge. "I guess that's what love does to you."

How anyone who looked at Sebastian Smythe's actions could think that that boy could love someone the way he did right there, crumble the way he did right there, was an impossibility in Blaine's mind. But it was also an impossibility right now not to believe him, and not to finally voice his reciprocated feelings. "Tell me about it."

And Sebastian looked up at him, because he'd shrunken in on himself, and Blaine found that he was leaning down, touching his lips off his, their noses rubbing together, the tears on his face mingling in the kiss, and then the were both leaning into it with all the emotion, all the passion and yet softness they could manage, before coming up for breath.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Smythe." Blaine gulped, and Sebastian laughed, and they collided in a kiss again, mumbling flustered 'I love you's.

Their lips sure broke apart a few minutes later, but looking into each other's eyes, they came together, healing and maybe just unbroken for the first time in their lives.


End file.
